


Reparations

by SoloButNotHan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Kid Fic, Redemption
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloButNotHan/pseuds/SoloButNotHan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On that fateful night in the Longbottom house, not two, but three Longbottoms were tortured. Poor little Neville survived the curse, but Bellatrix Lestrange paid dearly for it - with her life. Now it is left to a reformed and determined Narcissa to make reparations for her sister's crime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of my friends who beta-ed for me! This chapter definitely wouldn't be here without you guys!

Chaos. “Order in the court!” Silence. “Criminal trial of the twentieth of December, nineteen eighty-one, for offenses committed against the Law of Unforgivables and the Decree for the Protection of Underaged Witches and Wizards by one Bellatrix Elladora Lestrange, eldest daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Interrogators: Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic; Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office. Court Scribe: Cornelius Fudge. Witness for the defense: Lucius Malfoy.”

And in such a manner, the trial of the century began. Lestrange, who had been one of four caught at the scene of the crimes upon the Longbottom family, was being tried separately from her three collaborators due to an additional charge - she had been caught using the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms’ one-year-old baby, Neville. No one could believe that the woman sitting in the defendant’s chair had committed such a horrendous act, but as the trial unfolded and all the evidence came to light, they began to rally against her. As a description of the condition of Frank and Alice Longbottom was relayed by a St. Mungo’s Healer, those in attendance began to discuss whether life in Azkaban would even be too good for her. As Augusta Longbottom’s memory of Lestrange torturing her grandson was displayed in the court pensieve, they began to bay for her blood, determined to have her executed by the end of the night. Over the course of the trial, several viewers had to be escorted out of the courtroom by Aurors. In a dark corner of the public viewing box, a young blonde woman clutched a photograph of a small (and equally blond) baby so tightly that her knuckles were white.

Of course, public opinion was never supposed to have an effect on the outcome of a trial, and this one was no exception. The three interrogators carefully kept their attention on the testimonies of the witnesses, studiously ignoring the outcries from the audience. They too, however, slowly realized throughout the trial just how twisted the defendant was. Their shock was evident at the description of the elder Longbottoms’ feeble state, as all three of them were well aware of how much time one had to spend under the torture curse to reach such a state. Madam Bones could not contain her gasp of horror when Lestrange’s actions against the child were revealed. Even Scrimgeour and Bagnold were decidedly pale by the time Madam Longbottom’s memory finished playing. The trial wound to a close quite quickly after that. Bellatrix Lestrange was unanimously found guilty by the Wizengamot, and the three interrogators wasted no time in determining that an immediate death sentence was in order, contrary to their decisions thus far, due to the severity of her actions. As everyone in the courtroom prepared for the official sentencing, the young blonde woman rose from her seat and rushed hurriedly from the room.

* * *

Narcissa Black Malfoy kept her head bowed as she moved quickly through the Ministry corridors. She didn’t stop until she got to the nearest floo. With a flash of green light, she was gone.

The flames of the Malfoy Manor fireplace roared to life a moment later, and Narcissa stepped out with a little bit less of her usual elegance and grace. Her heels clacked as she raced across the refined marble floor, aiming for her private study. She cast a glance into Draco’s nursery on her way, nodding in satisfaction to herself when she saw that he was napping peacefully in his bed. She did not pause to check on him, because she knew that if he needed anything, a house elf would appear at his first cry.

Sitting at her desk, Narcissa pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and her best peacock feather quill. She dipped the quill in the ink and began to write.

~~_My Dearest Husband,_ ~~

~~_Dear Luc,_ ~~

_Lucius,_

_I am sure you know by now that I departed Bella’s trial early. I know that it is my duty as her sister to be supportive of her decisions and actions, but I found that impossible today. ~~I simply could not accept that she would do such a thing to a child~~_

Narcissa sighed, shook her head angrily, and crumpled up the letter to her husband. She threw the crumpled ball of parchment into the fire and pulled out a new sheet.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_I’ve no doubt you are shocked to hear from me, since we have been on opposing sides throughout this miserable war. I’m afraid that that was a mistake on my part, though I am only realizing it now. I have just returned home from my sister Bellatrix’s trial, and I have done so as a changed woman. I find her actions reprehensible and unforgivable. I suppose my change of heart is due to my own son, but regardless of my reasoning I feel that I can no longer -_

Narcissa crumpled up yet another letter. Ever since the fateful day of her sister’s crime, she had felt conflicted, and today’s trial only confirmed her fears. She knew she had to get out, but she didn’t know who to go to. She tried one last time, to her other, estranged, sister, who was the only person who could possibly help her.

_Andromeda,_

_I know that the circumstances are suspicious at best, and you have no reason to trust that I am being truthful. I have no right to demand that you do so, either. Instead, I am placing faith in your ability to feel love and empathy for your long lost and long misguided little sister, or at least your innocent infant nephew…._

Narcissa stopped writing again. It was useless, trying to get her thoughts out on paper. She knew that her life needed to change, but she was at a loss for where to start. Stifling a groan, she crushed the parchment in her fist and flung it onto the fire to join its fellows. She laid her chin on her palms and sat for a few moments, staring restlessly into the hearth. She watched the flames jump and crackle for a moment, lost in the creeping blackness of the ash drifting its way up the edges of her unfinished letters. Every particle in her was screaming that she needed to do something. She shook her head irritably, trying in vain to get the horrible image of Augusta Longbottom’s memory out of her mind.

Narcissa rose abruptly. Making a split second decision, she hurried out of the room. Ten minutes later she returned, garbed in official Black family dress robes and wearing her family ring on her left forefinger. Pausing only to give the house elf watching Draco orders to protect him at all costs, even from Lucius, she darted over to the fireplace, glancing warily over her shoulder as she went, as if she were expecting someone to slide out of the shadows and prevent her from leaving. When no one did, she deftly reached out and took a pinch of floo powder. She dropped it into the flames and firmly stated “Gringotts Bank” before stepping in and disappearing.

* * *

A towering green flame roared to life in the centre of the large and ornate atrium of the bank. Narcissa Malfoy stepped gracefully out of the fire, glanced carefully around her once more, and glided over to the nearest teller’s desk.

“May I help you?” the imposing goblin sneered from behind the desk.

“Divorce papers.” Narcissa stated tersely. The goblin’s slanting eyes widened a little.

“Right away, Mrs…. Madam Black.” He replied. He turned to retrieve the required paperwork.

Narcissa perched daintily on the stool in front of the desk, eyes darting around the atrium, scanning for any potential dangers. With the trial having been over for around half an hour now, it was increasingly possible that Lucius (or someone else from his crowd) could show up and spot her. That would be catastrophic. She pulled her cloak’s hood up over her shining silver hair, suddenly conscious of how conspicuous she was.

A minute later the goblin returned.

"If you would follow me please, Director Ragnok has decided that your situation is of sufficient delicacy that the remainder of our business should be conducted in a private room." He declared crisply, before turning and striding away. Narcissa leapt to her feet and hurried after him, peering over her shoulder one last time to make sure they weren't being followed. The goblin led her down a narrow, sparsely lit stone corridor. There were doors dotting the walls every so often, with placards reading things like "Head of Tellers" and "Meeting Room One" declaring their purposes. As they moved deeper into the bank, the ceiling got lower, the floor rougher, and the light dimmer. Eventually they came to a stop in front of a small and plain looking door labelled "Reserved for Matters of Extreme Delicacy." There was no door handle. The goblin pointed a long and wrinkled finger at the door, which glowed for a moment and then swung open with a shuddering creak.

It was pitch black in the room inside for a moment, before a gas lamp flickered to life and flooded the room with light. There was a single table in the centre of the room, long, wooden, and ornate. It stood on six legs, each with a clawed and gilded foot at the end. The surface was glossy, with a fine wax finish coating the intricate carvings decorating the edges. Surrounding the table were four elaborate purple plush armchairs, decked out in silk upholstery and gold tassels. The goblin gestured for her to sit down, and so she sat primly in one of the armchairs.

“My name is Arnok.” The goblin introduced himself as he settled into his own chair. “So, Madam Black. Divorce.” He said, laying a sheaf of parchment on the table. Narcissa said nothing, but nodded curtly. “Yes, I see. If I’m not mistaken, your sister’s trial was today?” Another nod. “I see, I see… Of course, seeing what she has done - oh, of course we know about that - we have been expecting you.” He muttered. “In retrospect, it would have made sense to expect your request, too, but I had not thought you would go this far.” Narcissa made no comment, simply continuing to watch and listen. Arnok let out a guttural sound, resembling a cough or perhaps a clearing of the throat. “I have here three different sets of divorce papers, offering different options. Since you are a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and your husband is merely of the French Noble House of Malfoy, you outrank him, and therefore control what occurs from here. As I said, you have three choices, which I will outline now.

“One: you leave everything behind, including your son and any assets you have brought to the family, and break all ties. This has the advantage of giving you an entirely clean slate.

“Two: you split everything evenly between the two of you, including all liquid assets, no matter whether either of you actually contributed that much to your partnership. In this scenario, you would be required to split custody of your son as well, half and half, in some way or another.

“Three: you take with you everything you individually own, leaving behind anything belonging to him. Any assets that you brought with you into this partnership, including properties and liquid assets, would go with you. In this scenario you would take your son, as is a mother’s prerogative.

“Now, I would be happy to leave you to give you some time to consider, or I can stay here. I have all the paperwork necessary for any of the three options.” Arnok finished, gesturing to the pile of parchment.

“No, thank you, I know which choice I would like. I will take option three.” Narcissa answered coolly. Arnok nodded, and two thirds of the parchment vanished.

“Just sign in these four places,” Arnok instructed, indicating the lines, “and then all you will need is your husband’s signature. You will not need to be present for that, as they will automatically return to my office once all the signatures are completed. In signing this contract dissolvant, you are agreeing to take with you your son and everything you own, while not touching anything that belongs to Mr. Malfoy. As soon as Mr. Malfoy signs as well, all assets within Gringotts will be automatically transferred.”

Narcissa quickly signed her name (using Black instead of Malfoy for the first time in five years) and tucked the parchment away into her handbag. “Thank you, Mr. Arnok,” she said, consciously trying to be more respectful than she normally would have been. “Do you have a floo I can use?”. He nodded and led her to his office.

* * *

Upon returning to Malfoy Manor, Narcissa charmed the floo to alert her if and when Lucius returned. She hurried upstairs to his study and left the parchment on his desk, with a curt note invoking her Black family status to make his signing of the dissolvant non-negotiable. She went to her room and gathered up all her clothing, folding it neatly and putting it in her old school trunk. She called a house elf and had it gather all the items in the house that either belonged to her or had been bought with Black money. She received a bit of a shock upon seeing just how much there was, but she soon got over it and had the house elf package it away in a trunk with an undetectable extension charm, also known as wizardspace. As a final act, she instructed the house elf to transport both trunks to the Leaky Cauldron. With all that done, Narcissa swept from the room, scooped up Draco, and flooed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :)
> 
> I'm not sure what my updating schedule is going to be like, but I'm aiming for two weeks? Hopefully? Maybe?


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